I Married a Wealthy 79-Year-Old Woman for Her Money—After She Died, Her Lawyer Slid Me a Cardboard Box and Said, “You Walked Straight Into Her Trap”
Bad idea.
Florence was not infallible.
Some entries were unfair.
One described me as:
a well-meaning raccoon who has learned to use a screwdriver.
Rude.
Accurate enough.
Another guessed I would hate becoming middle-aged.